


the case of the pre-oprah jitters

by polkadot



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkadot/pseuds/polkadot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oprah’s about to arrive at their <i>house</i>. David’s just chilling in the bathroom, not having a quiet attack of nerves, oh no. Neil calms him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the case of the pre-oprah jitters

He’s not hiding. 

Taking a moment in the bathroom to rest his head on the wall and concentrate on breathing isn’t hiding, okay? There are approximately eighty million cameras and accompanying cameramen infesting their house, and Neil may be used to having his every facial movement caught on film, but it’s been a while since David’s been quite so under the microscope, and never in their _house_ before. Their house is their oasis of calm. Ever since the paparazzi decided that shots of them groggily walking the dogs and taking the trash out wouldn’t sell papers, they’ve been largely left in peace. David likes it that way. Peace.

But now Oprah’s coming, and peace is the last thing on the agenda for today.

Thus the hiding in the bathroom. 

(Not that David would put it past Oprah’s army of cameramen to have invaded even this last bastion of privacy, but he’s checked the shower and even under the sink. Barring some Big Brother-level installation, he thinks he’s safe. Or as safe as you can be with the Oprah-countdown-clock underway.)

He hears the door snick open behind him. 

“You okay there?” 

It’s Neil’s voice, concerned on the surface and yet with a hyper undercurrent of amusement lingering beneath. He’s already been on the Red Bull then. 

“Someday that stuff’s going to be the death of you,” David says, without turning. “And it’s no good saying it’s sugar free. You may keep your boyish figure, but the caffeine’s the deadly bit.”

Neil snorts a little half-laugh, and David feels him step up behind, one steadying hand coming to rest on David’s waist. “Don’t knock my coping mechanisms. Yours include hiding in bathrooms – you’ve got no room to talk.”

David shuts his eyes and lets his head drop back against Neil’s shoulder. “ _Oprah_ , Neil.”

“I know!” Neil says, brightly. “Ms. Oprah Winfrey herself, here in our little home. Isn’t it awesome?” His hand tightens on David’s waist, and David leans into it. Neil’s strength is boundless, if buoyed by artificial Red-Bullian means, and David isn’t above relying on it in a pinch.

“Neil. There are cameras _everywhere_ , and even though the house is glowing with cleanliness I’m sure we’ve missed a spot _somewhere_ , and I just _know_ Harper is going to eat rocks or Gideon will fall in the pool and all of America will know what a failure I am as a dad.”

Neil laughs.

“I hate you,” David informs him, half-twisting in Neil’s arms so he can glower at him.

It’s not fair that Neil’s eyes are that impossibly blue. It makes it difficult to work up a truly imposing glare.

“No, you don’t,” Neil tells him, still grinning. “And Harper’s not going to eat rocks.”

It’s also not fair that David becomes abruptly aware that Neil’s somehow managed to get him pressed up against a wall. Again. “You’re so sure of that,” he says, managing to keep his voice level with an effort. “She tried yesterday. One of these days she’s going to eat a worm or something. Just to see how it tastes.”

From the changing character of Neil’s grin, he’s also become newly aware of the physical situation. “Well. Seeing how things taste is always a worthwhile endeavor.”

You’d think after eight years with a man you’d get a little less susceptible to his kisses. How many thousands of times has David felt Neil’s mouth against his? And yet it never grows old.

After a moment, David pulls away. “Neil.”

“What?” Neil says, eyes glittering dangerously. His mouth is wet, but he makes no move to wipe his lips. David finds himself unable to look away.

There was something he’d meant to say… Ah. “There are eighteen million cameras here. _Oprah’s_ about to arrive. They might break in here at any moment. Do you want this to be on national television?”

“There hasn’t been a _this_ yet,” Neil says, waggling his eyebrows, but he steps back. “You’ve got to admit, though, it’d make for good television.”

David tries to glare at him, but he doesn’t have Neil’s poker face. He can’t hold it. “Family interview, Neil, with babies and magic and dogs and pizza. No making out in bathrooms.” He has a feeling his stern tone is undermined by the grin Neil always manages to get out of him.

“Babies and magic and dogs and pizza,” Neil repeats, and throws him a snappy salute. “Can do.”

A sudden thought occurs to David. “Is my hair okay?”

Neil checks him over before answering, no knee-jerk affirmation for him. There’s a reason David loves him. “It’s fine. Why, were you hitting your head against the wall before I arrived to distract you from your Oprah-induced hyperventilation?”

David turns to look in the mirror anyway. He trusts Neil’s judgment in the realm of hair, but it’s conceivable that he could have been thrown off by the impending arrival of Oprah. “Maybe.”

In the mirror, reflection-Neil stands next to the door, hand on the doorknob, staring at him with one of his inscrutable looks. “Hey.” 

His voice is quieter. For all that David loves Neil’s energy and enthusiasm, for all that David loves the way Neil can always make him laugh, there’s something special about the moments when Neil’s voice drops into seriousness. It feels like it’s just for him, something precious.

“Your hair’s as perfect as ever, and everything’s going to be fine. America’s not going to see what a failure you are as a dad, because you’re not a failure. You’re a great dad. A really great dad. And a very special person.”

David leaves off inspecting his hair in the mirror. Neil’s right, it’s perfect. 

“You always know just what to say,” he says, turning and leaning back against the sink. He’s trying for a light tone, but he’s a bit worried his voice wobbles. Crap. This is a wonderful omen for a nationally televised interview with Oprah. Granted, he’s sure Oprah’s seen just about everything there is to see, but he was hoping to play it cool.

Neil grins. “What can I say, it’s a gift.” 

Their house is infested with cameras and cameramen, and Oprah may even now be twiddling her thumbs on their doorstep, and David is standing in a bathroom grinning inanely at his fiancé. Truly his is a dizzying life.

“You know I love you?” Neil says, conversationally, still grinning. “Just be yourself and the cameras will love you too. Charm their pants off.”

David takes a deep breath and consciously squishes his nerves down in the pit of his stomach. This isn’t his first rodeo. It may be _Oprah_ , and it may be their home, but he’s a professional. He can do this. And he’s got Neil by his side. 

He steps forward and steals one quick, promising kiss. “Help me keep Harper from eating rocks?”

“Will do,” Neil says. He’s got that intent look on his face, which means very good things. “Apropos of nothing, after this whole circus is over and the cameras have fucked off –”

“Yes,” David says, and steals one last kiss, just because he can, just because the man in his bathroom is his man, and they’ve made a family together, and they’re about to tape an interview for national television (with Oprah freaking Winfrey!), and however many thousands of kisses they’ve shared, every new one still feels like coming home.

He’s smiling as he resurfaces. “Yes. Always.”

Neil offers him his hand. “Care to come out of the bathroom with me?”

“I’m yours,” David says, taking it. 

As the door shuts behind them and David catches sight of the first cameraman at the bottom of the stairs, he adds, “Your breath reeks of Red Bull, by the way.”

“Well,” Neil says, tugging him along by the hand, “if you ask nicely, I just might share.”

And as they descend together into the maelstrom that is Oprah’s entourage, with Neil breaking into song and the dogs running about and an earnest intern dashing in to tell them they have five minutes until doomsday, David begins to think that this day might just go okay after all.

(He’s a bit premature. Harper does try to eat rocks. And the neighbors randomly decide to mow their lawn in the middle of the interview. And of _course_ it’s garbage day. But otherwise it’s a pretty good interview. Neil keeps his promise to share his Red Bull, and even stops himself from interrupting – most of the time – and David manages to not completely embarrass himself. So that’s a relief.

And later – well, ‘pretty good’ has never been the qualifier of choice for _that_. ‘Awesome’, maybe, or ‘mind-blowing’. ‘Epic’, perhaps.

Or just – David thinks, tracing a lazy line along Neil’s hipbone, all the cameras gone, with only their own shuddered noises to disturb the quiet peace of a sleeping house – _perfect_.)

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re in the US, the full Oprah interview is [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mv_Y9bmJHpc). It’s awesome. Be sure and watch for the leg rub at the end. ;)
> 
> Also, no endorsement or criticism of Red Bull is implied. Neil just drinks it a _lot_.


End file.
